Elektra Regina
by Wynnefred Blaire
Summary: A sequal to Robin Hood. The plot is based on the Greek tragedy, Eodipus Rex, except with a few twists. Marian and Robin are expecting a baby. Marian recieves a prophesy that her daughter will murder her and marry Robin. More chapters to come!
1. The Maid, the Witch, and the Prophesy

Elektra Regina

The lovely Lady Marian struggled her way up the steps of the tower of London. This was difficult considering she was eight months with child. She had set off from Sherwood the day before without the knowledge of her husband. She was supposed to be in confinement and he would not have allowed her to come as far as London. But she'd had to come. Those dreams were too disturbing to ignore. The guard ahead of her turned around worried. "My lady, can you continue? The King would be most displeased if anything happened to you."

"I will be fine," she responded in a cultured tone. "Lead on."

Finally, they reached a thick wooden door with a small barred window. The guard fumbled with his keys and cautiously opened the door.

"Lady Marian of Locksley," the guard announced, allowing her to pass into the room. "The _witch_, Mortiana."

"Well, this is a surprise," cackled the witch. "To what do I owe the honor of this visit?"

"You must read the future of my baby," Marian gasped, still trying to catch her breath from the climb. "I have had such horrible dreams about it. All of evil and incest and death. Please, tell me. Show me its future."

The crone put one evil claw on Marian's swollen belly and the other covering Marian's eyes. The lady had to struggle not to shrink away from those repulsive hands. There was a moment of silence, then, suddenly, there was a horrible blood curdling scream. "Aaaaaaah! Such _horrible_ things I have seen!" cried the crone grinning at Marian maliciously. "A daughter you shall have. Lovely and charming, wild like her father. She will _murder_ you and _marry _her father."

Marian gasped in horror. "No! Such satanical thoughts. It cannot be!"

"Oh but it is!" cackled the hag delightedly.

"Quiet witch!" yelled Marian. "Guard! I am done here. May you rot here into eternity you willing slave of Lucifer!" With that she flung herself from the cell and ran down the steps of the tower sobbing.

What could she do? To return to Sherwood would be to condemn her child to the everlasting fires of hell. To kill one's mother was an unspeakable sin. But to marry one's father was horrifically worse. She wept even harder to think of leaving Robin, but she had to. It was her duty as a mother to get her child as far from that fate as possible. She couldn't leave her child. Her heart would break if she did. She would just have to take her chances. She would rather die at her daughter's hand than live never to have known her. She made up her mind and ran to meet her lady's maid, Gertrude, outside the ominous building.

"Gertrude!" she yelled. "We must go _now_." Marian climbed clumsily onto her horse and rode off to the south.

After a bit, Gertrude became nervous. "My lady," she said cautiously. "Sherwood forest is north of London. Why do we go south?"

"Because," answered Marian. "Normandy is to the south."

"Normandy?"

"Yes, to stay with my relatives, the du Bois family."

"My lady," Gertrude started guardedly. "Lord Robin expects you home for the birth. This might not be the best time for visiting relatives."

"We are not visiting," Marian snapped. "I won't be going back to Sherwood."

They rode on for the rest of the way in forced silence.

It was about midnight when Peïre George awoke to a banging on the chapel door. He rose and opened the door to find a powerfully built woman half carrying a convulsing pregnant lady. Peïre George was the priest of the influential du Bois family, but he was still a humble man of the cloth and so he allowed the obviously ill woman to take shelter in the chapel.

The journey had been hard. After a long ride to the coast, they had had to endure a tumultuous sea voyage to Normandy followed by another difficult ride to the du Bois estate. They had been about one mile from the chapel when Marian had started into a premature labor. The final mile had been absolute anguish and it was a miracle that she had reached the chapel alive.

Peïre George helped to carry her to the guest chamber and laid her on the bed. He left Gertrude to midwife her. All night, the priest sat outside the door, listening to the screams of the woman, writhing within.

At last, when morning was just beginning to creep over the horizon, Gertrude burst from the room. "Father, Marian is dying. The only way to save the baby is to cut it from her." There were tears in her shaky voice. "Will you come and conduct the last rights so that she might leave this world with a light soul?"

"Of course my child," he murmured placing a comforting hand on Gertrude's shoulder.

When he reached Marian's side, she reached out a hand to him which he grasped. "Father," she moaned. "This is my last confession. It has been prophesized that my daughter will kill me, as it is obvious that she is about to do, and that she will marry her father, Lord Robin of Locksley." With a great effort she removed a crested ring from her right hand which looked to be of a Norman design. "Therefore, Gertrude, you must not take my daughter back to Sherwood. You must instead, take this my ring and give it to my childless cousin, Lady Jacqueline du Bois. Ask her to raise the child as her own and tell no one of her true parentage. Tell her my husband is dead. Do not make anyone aware of the prophesy and I bid you never tell my daughter of it. We must protect her from her evil fate." At this she stopped, her breathe wracked with oncoming death.

"My lady," sobbed Gertrude. "Before I go forth with this my most odious task, have you a name for the child?"

"If it is indeed God's will that my daughter commit incest, I know not. And so I will leave it up to God. Her name shall be Elektra after the Greek story which resembles her prophesized one so much. Is that not fitting?"

"My lady," interjected Peïïïïre George. "Do not damn your daughter so, holding her to such a sinful fate!"

"I will damn my daughter as I please, for is it not true that fate has ruined her without mortal assistance? Have I not given up my _life _to release her from this damnation? But I shall name her what I see fitting, and her name shall be Elektra. She must overcome it, or fall victim to it as God sees fit. Now Gertrude, make haste with the knife, for my daughter's life is at stake!"

On that morbid tone was Elektra du Bois, daughter of Marian and Robin of Locksley brought into the world.

--Okay, well, I guess this is it. My first story on fanfiction! I'm so proud. It's not anything special, but I like it. I wrote this as an assignment for my Literature class. More chapters to come. _Please_ review! Thanks for your time!


	2. To make her fall in line

_Sixteen years later_

Lady Jacqueline sat in her private chambers with her husband, Philippe taking advantage of their daughter's morning ride to speak of her in secret.

"My dear husband," said Jacqueline. "We cannot allow these rebellious ideas of hers to continue."

"But my love, she is only sixteen. Perhaps we could give her…more time." Even as she said this, she knew it was impossible. Sixteen was far too old to be unmarried. "But if we allow this attitude," she retorted, "she will, perhaps, turn her eyes forever more from marriage. We must be firm and stop her disobedience. When she returns from her ride, we will call her forth and _make_ her comply with our wishes."

Just then a raucous rose from the courtyard below. Jacqueline looked out her window to see Elektra on a stallion that was obviously too big for her to ride followed by two of her more adventurous ladies-in-waiting, Ponette and Marie.

Jacqueline called to one of her ladies ordering them to bring Elektra before them. "She will be very perturbed that you have disrupted her archery practice," said Philippe.

"Well," replied Jacqueline. "She will just have to cope with her perturbation. I am her mother and therefore have sovereignty over her. Our daughter _will_ put aside her arrogance."

It was at that moment that Elektra entered the room followed by Ponette and Marie. "Mother, Father, you requested an audience with me?" Her words were saturated with sarcasm.

"Have you completely forgotten you manners? You do not simply burst into a room when summoned. Curtsy for goodness sake." Elektra made a rather unattractive face and slid into a messy curtsy nearly slipping on her skirt causing her to go careening into a painfully expensive vase. Jacqueline winced. That vase had been a wedding present. Well, it was her own fault. She should have known better than to insist upon a curtsy. Elektra was known for her complete lack of social graces. Her singing was painful, and her dancing was a life threatening event. "To the point," sighed Jacqueline with authority. "It has been brought to my attention that Lord Henri received a refusal for his request to court you."

"Indeed he did," countered Elektra. "He cannot even ride my horse or string my bow. If he cannot claim dominion over an animal and a stick of wood, what makes him think he can claim dominion over me?"

Jacqueline groaned in frustration. "I have also heard that Lord Louis and Lord Pierre both received similar refusals."

"What you have heard is true," Elektra responded. "I challenged them both to an archery contest and I beat them both so soundly, it would have been an embarrassment for me to be courted by either of them. For what woman can accept a Lord who is less of a man than she is?"

Philippe finally spoke, "There is more to being a man than archery and riding. You cannot go on with these refusals. Sooner or later you must marry."

"I shall marry no man who cannot beat me at archery, and as no such man exists, I shall happily die an old maid."

"You are very arrogant," answered Philippe. "To assume you can beat all men, especially those you have never challenged."

"Lord Louis is the Norman archery champion. If I can beat him, does that not also mean I can beat all other Norman men?"

"Perhaps," said Jacqueline. "But what of men who are not Norman. What of the Saxons? I have heard that they are quite superior archers, so how do you know that you can beat _them_."

"As to that, I cannot vouch," replied Elektra. "As you know I have never been to England, and so have never met a Saxon to challenge him."

"Alright, dear daughter." Jacqueline looked as though she had been struck with an idea. "You shall go to England for a year and a day, with chaperones of course. It is high time you visited that land. If you find a man there to suit your fancy, then that is all well and good. Marry him. But, if after a year and a day you return home without a husband, your father and I shall pick one for you without your consultation. Therefore, Maid Elektra, use this time in England wisely. It is all you have."

"But Mother, Gertrude said I should never go to England. She said it was full of ruffians and far too dangerous for a lady."

"I am your mother, and my word means more than a deceased nursemaid. And as for England being full of ruffians, if that be true then I dare say you shall fit in quite well there. Now go and pack, for you leave within the week."

Elektra curtsied swiftly saying, "As you wish, Mother," and swept out of the room.


	3. Three weeks later in England

**Author's note:** Ok, I know this has taken FOREVER to come, and I really have no excuse. It was already written, it just needed to be edited and put on the sight. I was just being lazy, I suppose. But, as no one was really clamoring for another chapter, I didn't think you would mind if I made you wait a bit. Well, here it is, my humble approach to the continuation of "Electra Regina". Please enjoy and Review, pleeeeeeeeeeeease! Thanks a bunch for reading my stuff.

_**Three weeks later in England**_

Robin of Locksley stood at the grave of his wife, Josephine, on the fifth anniversary of her death. She had died in child birth leaving him with a son he named Joseph, after her.

This train of thought led him to think on another woman whom he had loved and lost. Marian. Oh! He had adored her, as no man had adored a woman before! He hadn't known what to think when, eight months pregnant, she vanished without a note or any word of where she was going. At first he thought she had gone on an errand of some kind and neglected to tell him for fear that he would not let her go, but after some time with no word from her, he accepted the undeniable truth; she had left him. It had completely broken his heart. He could not understand it. She had had no reason to leave and had shown no signs of displeasure in their marriage. She did, perhaps, seem slightly anxious a week before she left, but that was normal for a woman about to have a baby. After a month and a half, he resolved to go out and search for her, fearing that perhaps she was in danger, or had been forced to give birth elsewhere. Unfortunately, fate had other plans. Famine and pestilence hit the land and he was forced to remain at Locksley hall to aid his suffering people. In those seven years of hardship, he grew to accept Marian's betrayal and the loss of his unborn child. Then, when the famine seemed to be lifting, and his people could provide for themselves, Josephine had come. She was the daughter of a minor northern lord. Their love was not the passionate kind he had shared with Marian, but rather, filled with quiet affection and respect. Twice she was pregnant, only to miscarry in the middle months. Finally, in the beginning of their third year of marriage, she was pregnant again and it seemed she would carry the baby to term. It was tragically ironic that the baby survived, but Josephine did not. He spent most of his time nowadays raising Joseph and tending his land.

Suddenly, Robin realized he had been staring at the ground, thinking for close to an hour. He had work to do. His annual archery competition was only a week away, and he had much to do to prepare for it. The tradition had started during the famine. Held in Sherwood and therefore cut off from other archers, the famous Robin Hood devised a way feed his people and make the archers come to him. He held an archery competition in which he himself competed. So great was his fame that people came from all over England and Normandy and paid to enter the competition. The gold paid by the contestants was used to feed the people of Sherwood. Even after the famine had ended, the tradition continued, and this year was no different.

The day before the competition, nobles started to arrive. Many nobles came merely to watch the competition and partake in the revelry. It was good politics to be present at the Sherwood Games, as they had come to be known, for many marriages and treaties had been arranged there. Royalty and upper nobles would lodge in the castle, but everyone else would be in tents on the grounds. Robin was wandering by the registry, greeting the newcomers when he was attacked from behind by a five year boy old bearing a wooden sword. He was surprised and therefore fell to the ground shouting, "Joseph! Do _try_ to behave!"

"But Father, I'm practicing for the Games," laughed the little boy who was the spitting image of Robin.

"For the Games, eh? And what makes you think you're competing?" Robin was grinning in spite of himself.

"You said last year I could compete when I was older. I'm five now. That's older! You have to let me compete!"

"Five may be older," said Robin sternly. "But it's not old enough. Perhaps in a…"

He was stopped mid-sentence by a raucous being raised behind him. He turned around to see the back of a woman. He could hear her shouting at his game keeper, McDuff. McDuff, however did not seem to need any assistance, for he was shouting back with great gusto. Robin rose and dusted himself off, ready to end the disagreement. "You _cannot_ refuse my entrance!" He heard the woman insist in a cultured Norman accent.

"I can 'nd I am!" bellowed McDuff. "Your place is in th' stands with the rest o' the women!"

"What seems to be the trouble?" asked Robin calmly.

As he spoke the woman turned around to look at him. There was something about her that was extraordinarily familiar, but he could not place it. She seemed to be about sixteen years of age, but she carried herself with such confidence and maturity that she seemed to be ancient yet timeless. She tossed her dark hair and proclaimed, "I am Maid Elektra of du Bois, second cousin to King Richard, Grandniece of the Duke of Normandy, and this..._servant_ has the gall to refuse me entrance to the Games."

"My lady," Robin said picking up her hand and kissing it. "There must be some kind of misunderstanding. We refuse no one entrance, especially someone as lovely as you. You see, I am Robin of Locksley, lord of these lands. McDuff, why have you refused her?"

"You misunderstand, begging your lordship's pardon. She doesn't want to watch the Games," explained the game keeper. "She wants to enter 'em. As in, compete."

Robin raised his eyebrows in surprise and looked at Elektra. "Well, I'm afraid we can't allow that. An archery competition is no place for a Lady."

Elektra stood up a bit straighter with her head held high and her green eyes boring into him angrily. "I did not come all the way from London to be refused." Then she smiled. "_Surely_, you can make an exception just this once. I will pay double the normal fee."

Robin pondered for a second, stroking his red beard. Finally he said, "Well, I suppose it couldn't hurt, just this once. And if you are prepared to pay twice as much. Yes, I'm sure something could be arranged."

Her smile was genuine for the first time and he was once again struck by an intense feeling of familiarity. "Thank you my lord," she reached on her back and picked out a bright blue fletched arrow. Oddly, she proceeded to caress it lovingly. "You will not regret it." She signed her names on the lists and started to leave, but hesitated and turned back to him. "You are Robin Hood I believe?" she asked with the trace of a wry grin. He nodded. "The most famous ruffian in all of England," she laughed, full out, with obvious exuberance. "I am honored to be shooting against you tomorrow. May the best of us win."

"Oh, I intend to," he grinned. She inclined her head appreciatively and swept away, presumably to her tent.

He watched her go with a little more interest than he was willing to admit. There was something about that woman that intrigued him immensely.


End file.
